


Trigger

by petersnotkingyet



Series: and the dundie for most medical emergencies on company time goes to... [2]
Category: The Office (US)
Genre: Again, Asthma, Asthma attack, Gen, Hospital, Sick Fic, asthmatic Jim, sick, there is no whump in this fandom so here i am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 12:39:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6239734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petersnotkingyet/pseuds/petersnotkingyet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim has an asthma attack playing soccer with Charles Minor.  It's a really bad time for his inhaler to run out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trigger

Jim had always had asthma. When he was a little kid, he coughed all the time. He could get used to that, but there was no getting used to waking up at night feeling like someone had filled his airways with cement. His parents’ bedroom was on the opposite end of the house, so one of his brothers would run to get them while the other climbed into bed with Jim. Tom and Pete always liked to mess with him in the daytime, but when Jim had an asthma attack they were as scared as their parents.

Eventually, his doctor figured out right combination of medicine to cut down his symptoms. It had to be adjusted as he got older, but it was never as bad as it had been when he was little kid. He even played basketball in middle school and high school. The pulmonologist had helped him figure out that if he used his inhaler before practice or a game, he was less likely to have problems while he was playing.

Asthma wasn’t too much of a problem once he was an adult. It wasn’t something he hid, but it wasn’t something that came up often. Pam knew, and it was in his file. Jim used his maintenance inhaler religiously and stayed away from anyone he knew with a respiratory infection.

Charles Minor wasn’t the worse boss Jim had ever had, but he was one of the few that had actively disliked him. He did like Dwight though, which should have been enough to convince Jim to give up on him, but it was driving him crazy. With Pam out of the office, Jim was actually spending more time working than usual and being treated like he was doing less. Plus, being engaged and having financial goals made his job much more important to him than it had been when it was just a job.

Playing soccer with Charles Minor was a dumb idea from the beginning. Jim hadn’t played soccer since elementary school, at which time he couldn’t run long without coughing up a lung. He should have just quit after Phyllis swallowed a crown, but he had to be stubborn.

His chest was a little tight, but that was easy enough to ignore. Then he started coughing a little, but that just got him a dirty look from Charles Minor. Jim hadn’t had a full-on asthma attack in months, so he just kept playing, no matter how crappy he was at it. Finally, he inhaled to cough and could hear himself wheeze over the sound of everyone else playing. Jim stopped running.

“What’s the matter, Halpert?” Charles called. “You tired?”

Jim shook his head and patted down his pockets for his inhaler. Once he found it, he took a seat on the curb, shook the inhaler, and pulled the cap off. The muscles in his neck strained as he coughed, and it was hard to inhale when he pushed the top down.

“You can’t pretend to have asthma just because you’re losing, Jim,” Dwight scoffed. “Everyone, resume play.”

As soon as he managed to inhale, Jim knew something was wrong. There was no faint taste in his mouth and no collection of albuterol that didn’t reach his throat on his tongue. He turned the inhaler around to look at the dose counter, and his stomach dropped. _0_

“Pam,” Jim said, his voice hoarse from how hard he was coughing. “Get Pam.”

“I’m on it,” Andy said, running back inside.

Charles turned to the closest person to him, which was Oscar. “Is he really an asthmatic?” he asked.

Oscar stared at him dubiously and gestured at Jim. The salesman was red-faced and trying to pull his shirt collar away from his throat with shaking hands. He was still coughing, but the inhales were shorter. “With all due respect, sir, he looks pretty asthmatic to me.”

“Right.” Charles nodded and strode over to Jim. He picked up the inhaler Jim had discarded and looked at the zero on the dose counter. “What are we supposed to do, Halpert?”

“Charles, I don’t think he can really talk to you,” Phyllis said. “Dwight and Angela know about first aid though.”

“I prepare for injuries,” Dwight said. “Stabbings, traumatic amputations, blunt force trauma. Technically, Angela is the one who’s supposed to be prepared for this.”

“That’s not fair,” Angela whined. “You can’t expect me to deal with this with what we have on hand. He should have had an inhaler that actually works.”

Andy reappeared out of the building. “Pam’s on a call,” he said. “It’d be at least half an hour before she could get his spare inhaler and get back over here.”

“That’s it,” Charles Minor said. “I’m calling an ambulance.”

“I’ll call Pam and let her know,” Phyllis said.

Jim made a noise akin to a groan and leaned back against the concrete. He did his best to breath, but it felt like there was a hand in his chest squeezing out his lungs like a little kid with a tube of toothpaste. His hands were tingling, and when he looked his nailbeds were tinged blue. It was one of the few times any of the Dunder Mifflin employees had seen Jim look panicked, and that did nothing to make any of them more helpful.

The ambulance finally arrived and loaded Jim up quickly. The soccer game was forgotten now, but Charles lingered in the parking lot after he’d ordered everyone else back inside. Finally, he shook his head and went inside to file a report.

A few hours later, Pam called Erin with an update. Jim was okay, but the hospital had admitted him because of how low his oxygen stats were. He’d be missing at least a couple days of work, and Charles was quick to be accommodating since the instance had occurred on company property. A couple hours after that, David Wallace called.

“I heard Jim Halpert was hospitalized today,” Wallace said, getting straight to the point.

“Yes, um…” Charles faltered. “He had an asthma attack, and his inhaler ran out.”

“Wow,” Wallace said. “Just out of the blue like that?”

“No, we were playing soccer in the parking lot,” Charles said.

“Right,” David said. Charles got the feeling he’d already known that. “Listen, Charles. I’ve already heard several accounts saying you antagonized Jim when he began showing symptoms. I’m sure you weren’t aware he was asthmatic, but you understand why that’s a problem.”

“Yes, sir,” Charles said. “I’ll go by the hospital in the morning.”

“Good,” Wallace said. “Jim is one of our best employees. He’s got a solid career ahead of him, and we don’t want to lose him over something like a trivial rivalry.”

“Yes, sir,” Charles said.

“Let me know how he’s doing later, and make sure he knows he’s getting paid time off for this,” David said. “Goodbye.”

“Bye.”

After the day’s events, Charles let everyone go home a little early. The next morning, he called Pam and asked if it would be alright for him to come by during his lunch break. She didn’t sound particularly fond of him, but she agreed and warned him that one of Jim’s brother’s might be there instead of her. When lunchtime rolled around, Charles took Dwight with him and drove to the hospital.

It took them a few minutes to find Jim’s room. Pam was there, along with a man Charles assumed was Jim’s older brother. Pam introduced him as such, and Jim himself only nodded in acknowledgement because he had a nebulizer mask on. He looked tired, not to mention clearly uncomfortable from having so many people looking at him. Charles was beginning to regret bringing Dwight along.

“Jim, I want to let you know that your time off while be covered,” Charles said. Jim nodded again, and Charles cleared his throat. “Also… I wasn’t intentionally antagonizing you at the soccer game. I wasn’t aware that you were asthmatic.”

“What’s this?” Dwight asked, prodding the IV bag.

“Corticosteroids,” Tom said.  

“Interesting.”

“Well, we’re going to be heading back to the office,” Charles said, pulling Dwight away from the IV by his shirt. “Give us a call if you need anything, and let us know how you’re doing.”

Jim was missed work Thursday and Friday, and when he returned Monday morning he still looked tired. Angela asked him if he had a functional inhaler, and Jim showed her the one in his pocket and showed her the spare in his desk. She seemed satisfied and walked away without another word.

“Hey, Dwight,” Jim said a few minutes later. “Did you send out this memo?”

“Yes,” Dwight said.

“’No perfume or pungent cleaning products, no animals, no smoking, no mold, and no forced exercise. Limit dust, air pollution, and smoke of any kinds in proximity to the office. Do not enter the office with any kind of disease or infection affecting the respiratory tract,’” Jim read aloud.

“I wrote it. I know what it says, Jim,” Dwight said.

“These are all common asthma triggers.”

“You’re defective, Halpert,” Dwight said. “The company can’t afford to pay for your time off every time Kevin decides it’s acceptable to triple his amount of body spray instead of taking a shower.”

Jim chuckled and stuck the memo in his drawer. “Whatever you say, man.”


End file.
